Normally, I'd be running at this time and not only does this help combat the excesses of the weekend, but it gives me a chance to sort out the mess in my head and I usually return both physically and mentally invigorated. But not today. For some unexplained reason, my toe – the one I broke – aches and although I'm now pain free (thanks to some ibuprofen), I'm trying to be sensible by not pounding it for three miles around Reston. But this is doing nothing for my swirling mind. Yoga is my next port of call but, before then, I'm hopeful that this time with you will help clear some of the fog in my head as I've an inkling that most of this uncertainty has arisen from some knitting-related madness – and not, in fact, the new purple leggings that I'm wearing for the first time today. I suspect it's all to do with the sock. You remember that sock, the first of my "abandoned" knitting presents that I resolved to put into my handbag to knit on the move? Well, it's all I've been knitting. Pretty much all week. Oh, though that's not true: I cast on on Wednesday and could have completed it last night, only it's too small. Which is fine – I'd guessed that it would be (designed for sizes 4 – 7 and me having size 8 feet). Now knowing that I've got some spare yarn to work with, I can take the toe back and knit a couple more rounds of the foot and then hopefully I'll have a completed sock that I can wear, rather than a completed sock that'll be gifted to someone with smaller feet. It's just that the sock wasn't supposed to become the all consuming project that it's turned into, proving exactly why I can't be trusted with multiple projects on the needles. This might be marginally more acceptable if the only other knitting that I'm doing is for my own personal enjoyment, but we also know that's not the case. And so the deadlines slide. Since these are "Katherine" deadlines, set to be weeks in advance of the actual deadlines, I shouldn't worry. And I certainly shouldn't let it spoil the near-week I've had "off" from work knitting. I've enjoyed knitting the sock, I really have. Not only has it reminded me how very much I enjoy sock knitting but I'm also enjoying the anticipation of being able to share with the present-giver an update on my progress and, ultimately, a completed pair. They're also my first pair of cable socks (big tick) and they use a slip-stitch heel – which makes a change from my usual flap approach. An arran weight on 4mm needles, it's also been a fast knit and – if memory serves me correctly (!!!) – the socks could also contribute to Team Pink's "show and tell" entry at the Geeky Puffin Knit Palooza. Speaking of which, I could just jump right on this sock knitting train and compete the preparation I have to do for my sock class there – good for the knitting obsession and good for clearing some brain space. Once done, I can continue my cable obsession with the fingerless gloves, also for the knitting retreat. So perhaps this hadn't been such a bad thing after all? Perhaps these socks were just the project I needed to re-inspire me to work. They truly are the gift that keeps on giving. And speaking of giving, this Sunday's crafternoon tea is in aid of Macmillan cancer and so if you’re not doing anything between 2pm-4pm, perhaps you’d like to eat some cake for charity?

Well, this is a much happier version of Katherine signing off. Thank you for helping me identify and embrace the positive of these last few days. I had thought that I'd wasted them and was burdened with the worry that I had – and not for the first time – left too much knitting for too little time (2am bedtimes really aren't the solution). But it's not true and my Monday – even with its manic mileage – is so much brighter. Thank you. And I hope that you have a good Monday and a great week xx

I cannot believe where the time has gone, can you? One minute, it's the school holidays where, when allowed, my head has been full of making plans and preparations for my Big August Premiers (everything seems to happen at once, doesn't it?) – and the next minute, they're all over, done and dusted. And it's onto the next. Knitting-wise, even I have to admit that August has been a good month! Not only did we have the first ever, whole day workshop at Deanfoot (showcasing my very first lace scarf design) but Nick Sharratt used the scarves that I had designed for him to help launch his new children's book, "Shark in a Park on a Windy Day" at the Edinburgh Book Festival. And, if that wasn't enough, we're soon to release the patterns – "Scarves in the Park" - which will be another first for me as I explore the world of pattern selling. I also designed a brand new project for my "Learn to Knit" classes and started working on another commission for another children's author. Wow, actually "wow". Do you know, if you hadn't given me this opportunity to reflect and review, I might never have known. In classic-Katherine style, I'm already busy with the next thing without really giving a moment's thought to what we've achieved. So thank you, thank you and thank you :-)

It's all been a lot of fun though and, of course, it's not been something that I've been able to accomplish on my own. This isn't the Oscars so I won't keep you with a long list of thanks but I am very much a team player, and I really appreciate being able to bounce ideas off family and friends, turn to them when it all feels a little too much – and serve cheesy pasta the umpteenth time at home. My outside world has also been making demands of its own: It's been harvest time in the garden and we have, quite literally, been enjoying the fruits and vegetables of our earlier labours. Now I could turn into my father and start harping on about the wonders of home-grown produce and how I've never tasted peas so sweet as those from my pods – but even I know where the line is. For those of you who follow my twitter feed, you'll know what fun I've been having racing the clock to cook the veg plucked straight from the garden in the quickest time possible – but as you also know, I'm a woman of extremes and so we've also enjoyed some of the earlier harvest that we froze - in a gooseberry and strawberry cobbler.

The chickens have also been providing us with more than their usual excitement: We have had three clutches of eggs hatch this summer and "Apple" has gone AWOL so there might be one more. (In case you're wondering, Apple, Blackberry and Samsung are Pepper's offspring from last year.) Primrose, Custard's daughter (I hope you're keeping up?!), was finally released from her run last week with daughters Calamity (Jane) and Katie (pronounced "Kadie") – so named because Calamity had a nasty fall from the top of her little house. Pepper and her 11 chicks are still in their post-natal run and I reckon that five or six of those are girlies (if only they would keep still for long enough to count!). And then there's Blackberry and her three chicks (too early for me to tell). Having, err, "dispatched" of Primrose's cockerels, Husband is bracing himself for Pepper's lot and not at all impressed with the prospect of Apple sauntering out of the long grass with a line of chicks behind her. Clearly one of our priorities next year will be keeping the side of the burn under control and less jungle-like if we ever hope to spot broody chickens as well as any recently laid eggs. (We had to buy eggs again – seriously?!!) A formal run would, of course, solve all these issues but it's clear that our chickens love having the freedom of the garden so we've no plans to change that. But let's see what happens next year. As I look forward to September, so too do I find a bulging "to-do" list. Thank you to those who have registered for the "Introduction to Socks" workshop - there are a few more spaces if you want to join us on Sunday 13th. Then there's "Professional Finishing" in Edinburgh at the end of the month – as well as "Learn to Knit" being offered both in the capital and closer to home. And then it's time to look forward again, to the exciting times at the end of October, including a festive workshop here, working with the fab team at Woman's Weekly at Glasgow SECC and the imaginative Geeky Puffin Knit Palooza in Edinburgh. Happy days.... And may I wish you all happy days too xx

My wake up call last night was at 02:47 (I'm nothing, if not precise) – Youngest Son does like to mix it up. After popping into his bedroom, and expecting to be in for the long haul, I came downstairs, stoked the fire, put on the kettle – by which time, all was silent upstairs. I hadn't even completed a single round before the timer went off (no, you're not really surprised) and all was still quiet. Trouble was, I was awake. So, too, was the cat imprisoned in the utility room, no doubt for crimes again the sleeping (one of the side effects of "clearing" all the local vermin is that said cat is bored and sleeping more during the day; this makes him restless at night. His midnight prowls might even have been contributed to Youngest Son waking – though last night, it was definitely the other way round.) So you can imagine my pleasure at being up, wide awake, listening to the cat scratching away at the door like some crazed, well, animal, in the wee hours. I also know how easy it can be to programme your brain: You wake up in the middle of the night; you "reward" your awake self with a cooked breakfast / episode of your favourite programme / chapter of your favourite book; you eventually go back to sleep. Noting the pleasure of the night's activities, you wake again at approximately the same time the following night for more culinary / cultural delights. Advice is to do something so monotonous that your brain is sooo off-put at the thought of doing it again, you sleep on through. Examples include arranging all of your food tins in alphabetical order or reading sections of the dictionary. No pleasure, no (tangible) achievement, no reward. Examples do not include sock knitting or, indeed, knitting of any kind, blogging, perusing Ravelry or staring at any other bright screen. And so, anxious to avoid any further night-time nonsense, I downed tools and drank my "Sleepy Tea" in the darkness in front of the fire before heading off to bed. As for the knitting progress that you can see, well, I cheated. Sorry. I have to be honest, I had never in my wildest dreams thought that this bed-time "re-set" would last long enough to allow even a single, let alone a pair, of socks to be completed. So the socks were going to have to be knitted at some other time, I just hadn't really considered when. Turns out that once I'd started, I found it difficult to put down the needles, to release myself from the pure pleasure of round upon round of meditative socking stitch. And although stopping is exactly what I did on Night One, yesterday evening no other knitting appealed to me – to the extent that I started whiling away the hours online. And then, sensible head engaged, I carried on knitting the sock. Sorry, again. As for tonight, note to self: Go into Youngest Son's room and then GO BACK TO BED. Simples.

It's with some surprise that I'm able to write to tell you that the night wasn't nearly as bad as I feared. Despite helpful comments from Husband along the lines of 'and if Mummy gets any sleep...", I did, in fact get some sleep, in my own bed and without Youngest Son for company! The expected shenanigans kicked off a lot earlier than usual (20.53 to be precise) but were all done just over an hour later. And, much to my disbelief, lasted the entire night. In terms of my knitting, I did complete a couple of rounds past the cuff "target" but it turns out that was okay. Much more so, in fact: I really, really enjoyed it – and it was difficult to put down the sock knitting when Youngest Son has settled (I love knitting socks!). In fact, those plan stocking-stitch rounds were probably formed just to be sure he was asleep, to be absolutely sure. But you know me, I'm a stickler for the rules – and note how I stopped knitting just before the glorious blue colour hit the needles. Now that's control! (Though I suspect I'll get plenty of opportunity to continue this evening.....)

For reasons too boring, too mundane and too predictable to mention, we've got into an unhelpful night-time habit with Youngest Son: We put him to bed at bedtime, he goes to sleep and then, usually sometime between 11pm and 1am, he's awake and crying. For the aforementioned reasons, and in a desperate attempt to get some sleep, any sleep, the next part of the routine is as follows: With head hung in tired and almost hopeless resignation, one of us collects the child – who is by now, standing expectantly in his cot, his little bag all packed and ready to go – and bring him back to our bed. Where I, particularly, can look forward to a night where any sleep I can snatch will be nose-to-nose with said child, with my hair firmly wound around his lovely, little fingers and 'enjoy' a periodic role-call just to check that I'm still there. Obviously the thought of escape has never occurred to me. But not tonight. No, tonight it's all going to change. Tonight when Youngest Son awakes demanding his bed upgrade, well, I'm afraid it's not going to happen. Tonight Youngest Son will spend all night in his bed. Yes, brave words, the kind of words one might expect to hear hours before the drama – and associated emotional battle - but I have a plan: I'm going to knit socks through the crying. In a few minutes I'm going to cast on, grabbing these last moments of semi-functioning brain to at least get the stitch count correct, and then I'll continue the knitting while Youngest Son and I "negotiate" the new rule. The fire will be stoked, I'll have cats to keep me company, plenty of hot, decaffeinated drinks to the ready and the wonderful, re-assurance of sock knitting. (If this were to occur, say 12 hours earlier / later in the day, it might actually be a treat! And as much as I'm trying to put a positive spin on this, don't even think of suggesting that this is "me time".) Tomorrow, I'll show you the progress I've made with the first sock. Any more than the cuff and I'll probably be really, really tired.

As you're probably aware, I've been giving a fair few sock workshops, which has been absolutely fab. However, in amongst all of these socks being knitted by other people, it's only just dawned on me that there haven't been any socks on my needles for quite a long time. Well, since the 4th April when I finished the last pair – although it feels a lot longer than two months. Must have something to do with all of the other projects I've completed. (I have told you about Husband's jumper, yes?)

Coincidentally, or perhaps I should more honestly say "inspirationally", Rowan sent me a skein of their beautiful new sock yarn: Fine Art. Made from merino wool, kid mohair and mulberry silk, it really is the yarn of angels – and after reading about the women who have hand-painted the yarn to give its gorgeous colours, I'm sure that you’ll agree that this is an apt description. I was given "Phesant", which has lots of browns and reds in it, so you'd be right in thinking that it might not have been "my" colour. However, in terms of socks, it's spot on! Clearly this yarn is to be knitted into socks that are seen and I have just the right selection of brown shoes in which to do this. Thank you, Rowan: You made exactly the right choice for me.

So yarn sorted, I needed a pattern. And oh my goodness, this was tough. I was pretty sure that I wanted a Rowan (or at least "Coats") pattern thereby allowing Little Miss Goody-Two Shoes to model her Rowan yarn in a Rowan pattern. But, as you may also know, until very recently, Rowan didn't have that many sock patterns – and now living in the countryside, we don't have a John Lewis on our door-step with their extensive – and convenient – range of knitting patterns. (And yes, even in "Hicksville" we have the internet, although in my experience, books don't tend to be bought in ones, or even twos, and such extravagances really aren't needed. Particularly when it comes to knitting patterns.) But the answer arrived on my doorstep in the pages of the current version of "The Knitter": "Alda" by Barb Brown. Beautiful lace socks designed for Rowan's Fine Art. Super. Thank you, The Knitter.

As you can see, "Alda" is knitted in blue ("Kingfisher") and aside from using "Phesant", there is one other change that I'm going to make: If you look closely at the photo, you can see a slight discrepancy in the colour way at the top of the foot. Now, this could be a variation in the yarn itself but I'm more inclined to think that it's where the heel gusset has been knitted as a continuation from the yarn that was used in the heel. This means that the colour sequence of the yarn is slightly "out" when compared to the rest of the leg, hence we have this disturbance in the colour pattern. In an attempt to avoid this, when I get to the heel, I'm going to stop knitting with the yarn from the outside of the ball (as I've been using for the leg) and, instead, use the yarn from the middle of my ball. This should be fine as the heel is knitted differently from the rest of the sock (using stocking-stitch rather than the lace pattern and using straight knitting rather than in the round) so the heel often looks distinct from the rest of the sock. Then, when I start knitting the gusset (and the top of the foot), I'll go back to end of the yarn I first used so that the colour way continues in its original pattern. Savvy?

And now the heart of the challenge: The timescale. You all know that I can knit socks, but you also know that, given even less than half a chance, I'll start knitting them and then get distracted by another project (or six) so it'll be months or years before they're complete. But this will not be the case with these socks. Oh no. The first of these socks will be completed in the three weeks I'm teaching my "Anatomy of a Sock" class at the Wool Shop Scotland, in Haddington. In week one, we 'cast on the socks and knitted the leg and this is what I'll do so, that by week two, I'll be knitting the heel along with the group. Actually, it would be ideal if I could be a few rounds ahead as it would be wonderful if the class could see a finished sock in week three – but I'm aware that’s probably not realistic so they’ll have to see it at a Woolly Wednesday. I’ll finish the second sock in time for my next workshops in the Trafford Centre in September and Sheffield in October. Sounds good, eh? Too good? Let's see.

So, watch this space for progress. Week Two of the class is on Monday, tomorrow. So I'd better get back to my needles.

“Battersea” (from Rowan’s Summerspun Collection) aka "last summer’s jumper". Now some progress has been made since I last spoke to you about this: The back is finished and I'm working on the front – and its second side, no less. This is my current favourite "for Katherine" project and I'm optimistic that I will be able to wear it this summer. One of the motivating elements with this project is that I'd really like to start knitting with some of my "oh-so-lovely" new needles that I was most generously gifted for Christmas. (If there are any non-knitters reading this, then please take my word for it: Knitting isn't just about the yarn and patterns. There are needles and bags and accessories and more and yes, these can be ranked.) Now I know the ol' rule (don't change your needles part way through a project as it might alter your tension) but I figure that knitting both sleeves with the new needles is an acceptable place to make this change. And then I can return the needles to my mum (hopefully she won’t be too upset by the slight blue tinge to the light bamboo that seems to have gained from the yarn).

Socks (and yes, plural). I'm 12 stitches away from completing sock number one of the "Dumbledore" pair I'm working on (Opal sock yarn). That's six pairs of stitches to graft together to form the toe, so that's what, less than five minutes? Except that I need a little more time as I promised myself that I would immediately cast on Sock Two – that way it will be easier to pick up and continue knitting without having to conquer the "cast on without twisting the stitches" mound. I'm also test knitting some new sock yarn for Kathy's Knits. This might be top secret so I should probably say no more. Except that the 2.5mm dpns that I need for Sock Two are also required for the test knitting so the plan is to complete the secret-and-very-important-experimental-knitting and then get back to the Dumbledore socks.

I've got another secret project on the go but this time it's the recipient that's the secret not the yarn. Though if I told you the yarn the recipient might guess so I'm going to stop talking about this one too.

Obviously there's still Husband's Jumper ("Moon" by Martin Storey using Jaeger's Extra Soft Merino Wool). All knitting complete, just waiting to sew it up. Really, what is stopping me? Do have some deep, psychological need to keep this project and not give it to its intended wearer? Am I worried that he won't like it, that it won't fit? Or is that it will leave a huge void in my life once it's done? (As opposed to liberating me from the guilt I've had hanging over me for far too long.) Or is it that I just need a couple of undisturbed daylight hours in which to do this? Maybe if I blocked it and laid it out, ready for sewing, it would actually get done?

I also still have a jumper to sew up ("Sugar" from Jaeger Handknits #9). This has been in its "all knitted but not sewn" phase for a lot longer than Husband's, probably since before I was married. And the reason it's not moved on: I don't think that it'll fit. I predict that should it ever be a single unit (as opposed to just its component parts), I'll put it on and be sorely disappointed with the result. And yes, there is a solution to that too – give me time.

There must be other things…..Oh yes, there's my sheep (Cornish Organic Loopy Sheep). Present from MIL along with the yarn to knit Oldest Son a jumper. I'm a whole 36 stitches in – which are almost worth undoing just to reduce the length of this list. Actually, that's not right: I distinctly remember knitting in loop stitch, which means that I've completed at least one leg. Completed and lost, brilliant.

Okay, this is getting very depressing. And it's very, very silly. There's no way I'm going upstairs to check for more.

On a more positive note, I could also ask "what's just come off your needles?" and it is with some satisfaction – as well as an enormous amount of relief – that I, too, can answer this question (even if the list isn't as anywhere near as long):

I finally finished my necklace (from "Vintage Knit Knacks" by Sue Culligan using Rowan Milk Cotton). Truthfully, I'm a little disappointed with it, specifically with the colourway that I choose: I shouldn't have used the white. Too late, I learned from Kaffe Fasset that white isn't always a great colour use with others. Probably wouldn't have been as bad as going with yellow but it wasn't a good call. Following this discussion (in November, during his visit to Edinburgh to promote his new book), I "dumped" the project – emotionally, not literally, of course. Plus it had got a bit tricky – practically – as I hadn’t got a bead with a big enough hole to complete the work. But then I wanted to talk about iCords in a recent workshop and, all of a sudden, new life was breathed into the necklace. A successful trip to The Bead Shop Scotland provided the necessary beady solution and ta-da, project complete.

I've also completed another accessory bag. Admittedly this was for my "Knitting with More than One Colour" workshop but I've updated my pattern to reflect some of Rowan's latest designs (Rowan Magazine 53). And using some of their lurrvly Wool Cotton. Yes, you’re right: When I start including work, I am grasping at straws.

And this concludes the list. And now it's too late to actually knit. Still, there's always tomorrow.

On his return from his last trip to the US, Husband brought back for us all the children’s book "Squid and Octopus: Friends for Always", by Tao Nueu. And it really is for 'us all': Beautifully illustrated with amusing and thought-provoking stories - the first of which features knitting AND tea and cake!

I don't think that it'll give too much away to tell you that "Squid" – one of the two lead characters – knits, and his repertoire includes socks and "cosies" (replacement shells for Hermit Crabs – it's a children's story so bear with me). There is a definite learning point though, particularly for those of us who knit socks: "Second sock" syndrome is nothing when you have to knit eight to complete a set! I once knit 14 socks to make a set – although these were baby socks for the daughter of a very dear friend of mine. (And, if the parents get their own way, she's also my future daughter-in-law – hee, hee!)

I currently have two socks on the go. Socks from two different pairs, obviously. One just needs to be grafted at the toe and the second, well, to be honest, the second needs to be ripped out and started anew: Oldest Son chose the yarn and the socks are for him but if I knit the leg length to balance the calf width, Son won’t need the socks for about a decade and I won't have enough yarn to complete the pair. But the whole ripping-out thing isn't particularly inspiring and, clearly, by putting-off the evil dead, it's going to make the actual act oh-so-much easier. Denial, it's the way to go.

That said, I do have a pair of baby shoes to knit in time for their recipient's first birthday. I promised the baby's grandmother – a good friend and adopted grandma for my own boys – that I'd help out with the knitting for the all important birthday outfit. She's knitted the most beautiful cardigan so I hope that the shoes will do justice to her and baby's other knit-wear. Best get on with them, then. Can’t let my friend down or deny baby her shoes – I'll just be grateful that she only has two feet.

My friend and her baby, Alicia, are staying with us – it’s the first time I’ve met Alicia and she’s gorgeous.Beautiful, interested eyes, a wonderful smile and really lovely cuddles.No prizes for guessing that some of the surprise Projects were for her.And here are a couple of photos (maybe Alicia will model one or two while she’s here?):